Gemotions

The weight of the violin felt heavy against Leo’s shoulder, the bow a trembling extension of his arm. He gripped it tightly, his knuckles white. The music seemed flat, lifeless, each note a painful echo of his despair.

His "Song of the Sea," his music composition. The "Ocean's Echo," they called it. Someone had taken his notes. His best friend had claimed them as his own.

He slammed his bow down, the sound a sharp crack. It was her secret, and she was going to have to do something about it. He felt the need to scream. He was drowning.